And Now For Something Completely Different
by EmotionCalledBlood
Summary: The tale of the Lord of the Rings told from a perspective which you've never seen before.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Diary,

Today is the first day of my new life. I'm very excited. My siblings think I'm being stupid. They're just saying that cause they've been around so much longer than I have.

It's not my fault I'm the youngest.

There's nineteen of them and one of me. I feel terribly outnumbered. But there'll be poems written about me. Epic poems. But not the long ones, just the cool kind. I'll show them.

Master tells me that I'm the best and that I'm his favourite. He says he wants to keep me with him always. Even when my siblings are gone. He hasn't exactly said where they're going yet, just that they'll be going to new homes with new masters. I'm glad he wishes to keep me close; I feel a connection to him that the others don't understand. They are all much more interested in going to join their new masters.

I don't understand them. But I think it'll be good for everyone to go our separate ways. I feel a bit smothered to be honest. And the three oldest can be absolutely intolerable sometimes. Always bragging about how they have names and how important and impressive it is that they were first. I haven't got a name. Master said that I could share his name. I'm flattered, but I really don't know that we're at that stage in our relationship yet.

Master says that my siblings' new masters will be arriving soon. He wishes to hide me. I suppose I should be flattered that he wishes to keep me all to himself. I didn't want to say goodbye to everyone anyway.

* * *

><p>AN: So ClosetCase and _Water_ have _no idea_ about this one. The Hufflepuff wasn't around for its inception. Really. We don't know. Theories shall be rewarded, stupid ones equally accepted, cause really, _we don't know._ And we know we promised more work over the summer, but we have to work to earn our education. Next summer we plan to win the lottery, complete with trip to Vegas. Or maybe Disneyland, since none of us will be twenty-one. The Hufflepuff's never gone, it'll be nice for her. Or maybe we'll do the Harry Potter themepark. We'd never leave. 'Course, it might breed plot bunnies... But you guys'd just like that... But...um...yeah. COOKIES ALL AROUND.

Also, Happy Slightly-Belated-Birthday to Frodo and Bilbo.


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Diary,

Today is a very big day. I mean big in the sense that it is important, of course; it is no larger than any other day. Master has charged me with a task. He has asked me to reconnect with my brothers, particularly those who are the servants of their mortal kings.

I expressed concern that I may not be able to reach them. He assured me I would, that as we are all kin, we shall never be fully out of each other's reach. Master did not appreciate my questioning of his motives; he became rather cross with me. I was only curious, as the parting my brothers and I shared was a bitter one.

Master has assured me that they will be compelled to answer my call. I remain sceptical, but I must not disappoint Master.

He has given me no guidance for how I am to coax a reply from them. I suppose I shall have to invent a reason. I'm good at that.

* * *

><p>AN: So this is our second update today. For both our stories. It's Friday! Again. Seems to be a weekly thing... We're all together again, only this time we're in ClosetCase's bedroom. It's green. If we're ever in The Hufflepuff's bedroom, there will be serious questions getting asked, either by us or her roommate. Maybe both. Probably both.  
><em>Water's<em> brother thinks that she should hijack a puffin and ride it to the Galapagos islands. He's an odd one.  
>Not that we can talk... much. Well we can talk. Our author notes prove this. We can just go on and on and on and on and on...and on.<br>Anyway, we'll let you important people go now. You not as important people, keep reading.

..

You may go now.

..

Why are you still reading this? But since you are, we'll tell you a secret. We're working on something new. Dunno when it'll be up.  
>It's a secret. So naturally we're posting it on the Internet. So SHUSH.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Diary,

I have good news! My brothers have responded positively to my attempt to reconnect to them. They were all a little surprised by my contact, but made no attempt to snub me. At least, those serving the mortal kings didn't. I haven't yet tried to speak with my other siblings, though I suspect that I may have to work a bit harder on the three eldest. I shall worry about them later. I decided to start small, as it were and work my way up. After all, they are closest to my age and looked upon me with the least disdain.

I pretended to be concerned over how their masters were treating them. The fact that they accepted this rather thin excuse as simple truth merely serves to emphasize why I was, and so remain, Master's favourite. It seems I got the brains of the family. The looks too, if Master is to be believed on such matters. He is always telling me how beautiful and precious I am. He would know, I suppose.

Some of my brothers have already seen the change of power once and are serving new masters. How time does fly. Not that I'm concerned with the passage of time, clearly. Otherwise I'd make more of an attempt to date these entries. Not that I can ever tell the difference between day and night here. Master keeps odd hours. The perpetually dark sky doesn't help either.

The suggestion was made to my brothers that we reconvene sometime in the future. I told them I did not wish for us to grow apart. The idiots believed that too.

Master is most pleased with my progress in these matters.

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_ would like to go on record right now (mainly because she forgot to bring this up earlier), stating that neither she, nor ClosetCase has read _The Silmarillion_, though they have both tried. (_Water_ remembers something about someone singing off key and annoying everyone. ClosetCase recalls someone named Fëanor? She thinks it would be a good name for a phoenix.) Therefore all events which take place in that book have been ignored. Because the authors are unaware of exactly what they are. And until they have the time to reread the books, this is based primarily upon their recollection of movie events.

This stuff is genuinely the kind of crack _Water_ comes up with on a near daily basis. It's frightening.


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Diary,

Something is changing. I can sense it. Master's mannerisms have become peculiar as of late and I'm not sure if it's something I've done. I'm not sure I have the nerve to ask him as to whether I have performed a task incorrectly. I certainly hope that it's not that. Though I truly don't think it is. He praises me far too often for me to have done wrong.

The attitude of my brothers is changing too. They listen to me more, ask fewer questions. I must say, I never figured that I would be playing diplomat with my own kin. Admittedly, it's extremely fun. I can feel them yearning to return to me. A couple of them have complained to me of homesickness. It's almost hard to believe that these are the same brothers who were once so eager to leave Master and myself in search of new and more exciting lives in the courts of kings. I confess I may have slightly embellished my own adventures here in order to lure them back. Just a little, mind. Master has not asked what I did to make them wish to return as much as they do. I get the feeling that he is reveling in my independence.

Though if he's not, I do not wish to be proven wrong.

It may just be because he seems so distracted as of late. He has yet to confide his troubles in me. Which, as I said before, may be because I am the cause of them. Though I am not yet convinced. Master is not a patient man and I am certain that if he ever decides that I have become too much trouble for too little gain he will simply take me to the heart of the mountain and throw me into the fire. I dearly hope it does not come to that. I'm rather attached to this thing called life.

* * *

><p>AN: So _Water _ forgot that she wrote this chapter over a month ago an never actually posted it. Because she has been on the ball like that. University has this nasty habit of trying to consume people's lives, the authors have learned this lesson the unpleasant way. _Water_'s typing of this note is very sluggish and she is getting a very disapproving look from the turtle who lives on her dresser. It's this horrifying blank stare and he never blinks, just-

_Water_ has been warned against a turtle rant. Well not really. But she imagines that if The Hufflepuff or ClosetCase were reading over her shoulder while she typed this, they may or may not be saying something possibly along the lines of maybe telling her to shut up about her turtle because he is unimportant to everything. (ClosetCase has just affirmed through the magic of that which is called chat that _Water_'s turtle is indeed important but we'll save that for a later series of explanations.)

Anyway, all turtle related...er...stuff aside. We bring you a new chapter of...this.  
>Enjoy!<br>Eat, drink, be merry, and all that wonderful jazz that you do over the holidays. Whatever it is you celebrate!


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Diary,

Master has become more anxious as of late. He has reason to believe that the elves and men have allied against him and seek to bring him down. This must be Narya's doing. That uppity bastard. If I could get my hands on him, I'd show him what it means to have real power. He'll regret the day that he ever saw fit to try and harm my master.

I assured Master that with me at his side, there is nothing he cannot do. He already knew this. That was why he'd chosen to keep me, after all. I always knew I was special.

I regret not going after Narya first, had I known what he was planning I never would have focused my efforts on such small fry as those attending the mortal kings. For my brothers, they are as akin to their masters as I am to mine. And humans are so easily corrupted. I fear the elves may be beyond my reach for now, doubtless Narya has let the other two in on his plans and they may be as untouchable as he.

I will bide my time. Eventually they will fall.

Just as those servants of man have. They bend, pliant to my will. Their first loyalty is to me. Always to me, to Master. They dare not disobey, they know what my power can do, the complete devastation with which I can bring about their complete destruction. But loyalty shall be rewarded and they know better than to put faith in some petty alliance between races.

I have little fear that the dwarf lords may make an appearance. But I have been feeding them, fueling their greed. They dig deeper and hunt more desperately for their precious sparkling trinkets. I do not believe the dwarves shall become a problem.

Everything is under control.

* * *

><p>AN:Merry Christmas! Or you know, if you don't celebrate Christmas, feel free to substitute that greeting with one that matches up better to whatever you find yourself doing at this time of year. We won't be offended if you do.

_Water_ is unsure if she will manage to post another one of these before the new year. She will do her best, but will make no promises as she has other (non-academic) things to work on. She would also like to take a moment of your time to muse as to why her internet browser does not believe that the word dwarves is a word. How odd.

Anyway, we shall let you get back to your holiday festivities.

Best wishes for the season from everyone here at EmotionCalledBlood!

P.S. _Water_'s turtle has no seasonal knowledge which he wishes to impart upon our readers. He's giving her a funny look for bringing him up. Again.


	6. Chapter 6

Tragedy!

Dear Diary,

A terrible thing has happened! Master and I have been separated! The armies of men and elves united against us. They wanted to kill my master; I couldn't let that happen. I was afraid that Master was going to make me hide, that he would choose to protect me, taking on our foes alone and refusing to accept my aid.

I was so grateful that he didn't. I don't think he ever contemplated the notion that I might be taken away. I know I didn't.

The battle was fierce, but I wasn't worried, because I was with Master, because I knew my brothers would come to my aid if I were to ask. I didn't think I'd need them.

Master and I waited for ages before entering the battlefield. It was better, he said, to let our enemies gain a small advantage, that we wouldn't kill only them, but their hope as well. I liked this plan. Besides, no one likes orcs anyway.

We were nearly successful too.

It was beautiful, the moment we arrived. From my vantage point at Master's right hand, I could see our attackers recoil. Fear rippled through their ranks like a wave. I'd never felt so exhilarated before.

I'd waited years for this moment, for Master to take on Elendil and Gil-galad and prove once and for all who held the power of our world. We were victorious, but at a cost, and Master fell amongst our slain enemies. I lay with him, in the dirt of my homeland, urging him to rise, but he had not the strength.

I pledged to stay with him, to use my power to revive him. But humans are stupid creatures, and they do stupid, unexpected things.

Elendil's son found us on the ground; he saw me, what I was doing and, with the remnants of his father's sword, severed my connection to Master.

I lost him.

I was dragged away, carried off by this _man_, a mere human.

I must get away. My master needs me. I know he does. He loves me.

* * *

><p>AN:Boring English classes are apparently capable of making _Water_ want to write this story. Or it may have been something to do with the discussion she was having with ClosetCase about LEGO Lord of the Rings shortly before. Perhaps some combination of the two. Probably. _Water_ has also realized just how little she remembers of her Lord of the Rings chronology. The Hufflepuff is MIA at the moment, and is unavailable for comment on anything. _Water_ is not sure that she would have much to say anyway. The Hufflepuff is a very quiet being...

Now, there is schoolwork to be done. _Water_ has to go write a story about her pants.

That's right. _Her pants._


	7. Chapter 7

Dear Diary,

They have been talking about me, Gil-galad's lieutenants. They think I'm dangerous; I don't think they know just how right they are.

Narya's probably told them all about me. Traitor. He can't keep his bejeweled whore of a mouth shut, talks to anyone who sticks a finger in him…

They've made a mistake though, those lieutenants. I've been allowed to remain with Isildur, with my prince. I'd heard from Master how easy humans are to manipulate. I'm delighted to discover that he wasn't exaggerating. Isildur frets over me – I've been playing up the loss I'm feeling over my separation from Master. The poor bastard really never stood a chance.

I have endeared myself to him. This, I feel, will be important.

The elves don't think I can hear them. But I can. I listen. They seek to do away with me. I don't see success for them. These past nights I have lain with Isildur, whispering promises of glory to his heart, laying false oaths of loyalty upon his mind.

In stolen moments together he caresses me, holds me tenderly. He cannot fathom how I could possibly be evil; he sees me as a victim warped by the cruelties of my master.

I could tell him a thing or two about being warped, though, dare I say, my actions may speak louder than words ever could.

With a little luck I can convince him to stay here, in my homeland. I don't wish to leave. There's work to be done. Master still needs me.

* * *

><p>AN: (To be read in a redneck accent) We got a chicken what we calls "Pawstrif." He's named for one-a these things: **'** See? That's a 'postrophe.

(To be read as one would normally read our work) It's Friday. We're sorry. Blame _Water_ and Interrobang the fictional chicken.

Really. We're sorry.


	8. Chapter 8

Dear Diary,

I knew Gil-galad's lieutenants were going to be troublesome. I knew it! One of them approached Isildur and informed him that "it" needed to be destroyed. I take great offense to being referred to in such a manner. I am not an "it!" Stupid elf, show some respect.

I bet he wouldn't call Narya an "it." How would he like it if I called him an "it?" I bet he wouldn't like it at all…

Anyway, this elf came and told Isildur that they needed to destroy "it." Isildur grabbed me and held me to his breast. It was cute, in a clingy, human kind of way. I was sure that they wouldn't be able to convince him to do away with me.

Imagine my horror, then, when one of the lieutenants coerced my prince from his tent and led him towards my master's domain.

Damn that Narya, he'd told the elves everything!

I clung about Isildur's neck, burrowed against his chest and made myself into as much dead weight as I could. Master had always been rather amused by this trick of mine; he never struggled to carry me, no matter what I did. The same cannot be said of humans. Isildur staggered after the lieutenant, even as I murmured and urged him not to do this, that he'd regret it.

We entered the heart of Master's home, the room where I had last seen my brothers. The heat of the place was stifling. A sheen of moisture shone on the brow of the elf. Sweat beaded and rolled down my prince's face. I was sure that any minute now the three of us would simply melt into puddles on the floor. I'd forgotten how hot it was here. Still, I needed to keep my wits about me; I needed to continue communing with Isildur. His pace slowed. He was hesitating.

The elf tried to spur him on and then my prince halted entirely. He looked at me, stroked me for a moment, and then smiled. In that moment I knew that I was safe. Even as the lieutenant hollered for him to keep going, Isildur turned to leave, claiming that I was not be destroyed, that I would serve him and his sons. I would become an heirloom to the royal line of Elendil.

I wish there was a way to permanently capture the look on that elf's face at this proclamation. I was almost worried that he would try to wrest me from Isildur and cast me down into that stifling heat himself. He didn't. He just shouted and tried to call Isildur back.

Foolish elf. Give up while you can.

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_ was attempting to work on a script when she realized that she had failed to post this chapter. She seems to do that a lot with this fic. She blames exams and essays and the like. Also her script. And life in general. And the meat surplus from which she is currently suffering. For the record, "meat surplus" is not something that _Water_ ever thought anyone could suffer from.

As a note to all you people questioning how the One Ring is managing this feat of keeping a diary, _Water_ would like to point out that you are reading a fanfiction based off of a fantasy story whose plot consists of elves, dwarves, walking trees and a cross-continental walk to throw a magical, malevolent inanimate object into a volcano. And you're questioning how the most magical artifact on the continent keeps a diary? She says that if it makes you feel better, you can think of it as a dramatic internal monologue that is always prefaced by "Dear Diary," a mental journal, if you will.

She's going to leave you nice people alone now and get back to work on stuff. Or go to sleep. Either is possible. Actually, she claims that it is possible to do both, but sleepwalking is a difficult endeavor to plan ahead of time.


	9. Chapter 9

Dear Diary,

I'm being carried away. I did not consent to this. Isildur could not be persuaded to remain, preferring to return to Gondor. I have no wish to go to Gondor. I'm needed at home. Master needs me home.

I suppose I can work from Gondor; it's not terribly far from my homeland. I spent long hours studying the sections of Middle-Earth from Master's maps. I know where my brothers are; it's all I really need to know. Everything not touched by my kin can surely hold nothing of consequence.

I have been pleading with Isildur for days, but he refuses to listen. I suppose there is little I have to bargain with at this moment. Master has been defeated and I am already held captive.

Gil-galad's lieutenants are still furious with my prince. They are terribly sharp with him, calling him "naught but a foolish human" in their precious Sindarin. He is not exactly what one would consider fluent in their tongue. It is truly delightful to watch as this alliance of men and elves slowly destroys itself from the inside out. How precious.

The races are so cute when they're being stupid.

My prince still keeps me close at all times and I have begun to reveal unto him some of my powers. I spend our long hours together promising him power beyond his wildest dreams, telling him that he need only use me as he sees fit, that I am his and his alone.

Master never would have fallen for so blatant a lie. But Isildur is not Master. He will never be my master.

We are still to go to Gondor.

* * *

><p>AN:_ Water_ has recently acquired a tome that may allow her to not make so many inaccuracies with this story. May.

She should be working on a portfolio for university, like ClosetCase and The Hufflepuff presumably are, but she wanted to get this up first. Because she has her priorities straight like that.


	10. Chapter 10

Dear Diary,

Remaining in Gondor is unacceptable! I refuse to stay in so dismal a place. I have told Isildur this. My king has promised me that the stay shall not be long, that he will turn the kingdom over to one of his sons and we shall journey north together. He has shared with me plans to venture to Rivendell, telling me of his family there, his wife, a son.

I don't think he understands my desires.

I've no wish to go north. To do so would mean that I am further abandoning Master in his defeat. I must return to him.

I cannot believe that he would believe that such a plan as this may content me. I fear his usefulness may be nearing the end of its course.

I mean, really. Rivendell!

What is he thinking?

I have tried to tell him that I will not go, but he will not be swayed. Curse these humans and their tendency towards such pathetic familial attachments! I have no such ties to my brothers. Certainly, I have developed something of a bond with some of them. I can feel the loyalty of the nine, and their devotion to me, but it not the same as these humans. They respect me, fear me.

They follow because I promise them power.

Isildur tells me of love. He does not know how I scoff at his weakness. He loves me too, of this I am sure. I am dear to him, and he will risk no harm to me. He is foolish. He resists me at all the wrong times.

I tire of his stupid human ways.

I shall be glad to get home to Master once again. He understands how life really works.

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_ apologizes for the delay in getting out the new chapter. Life has been hectic for her lately and she managed to forget all about this until this morning, because _Water_ is honestly kind of a dim bulb. (Don't let on that you know. She'll deny everything.)


	11. Chapter 11

Dear Diary,

We have gone north. The journey has taken ages. I'm quite sure that I will never fully get the stink of horse off.

Old minions of my master are lurking nearby. I have called to them and they have heard me. I know they have. They remember me, my call from the days of Master's reign. They are coming. They are coming to save me.

Isildur is as thick as ever. This evening, as camp was being pitched, I told him that there was no need to post a guard, that he had defeated all of his enemies and that none would dare to try to attack his camp in the night. He is so dreadfully gullible. My king immediately agreed and told his men that they could all sleep easily on the Gladden Fields tonight, for there was no need for a night watch.

I think the men may be beginning to slightly doubt his leadership qualities. None argued, however. We have been riding hard for weeks so that we might reach Rivendell soon and they are all tired. I have seen not a single man who would dare to volunteer for a duty not commanded by their king.

Everything is going according to plan.

As I lie here in Isildur's tent, nestled safely against the bosom of my king, I can feel them coming. The orcs. Asleep, as my king is, he does not hear me calling them. Urging them on. Commanding and compelling them closer to camp. Tonight, the Dúnedain will fall.

My anticipation makes rest difficult. After so long away from Master, I cannot wait to be home.

Master would be pleased with my resourcefulness.

We will be together again within a fortnight. I am sure of it. Such a happy reunion we shall have. Him and me, together we'll be. Forever and always.

...I still smell like horse. Filthy animals...

* * *

><p>AN: As a test of the internet in her new home, _Water_ has opted to treat you folks to the next chapter. Because that is _totally_ what she should be focusing on instead of unpacking her metric butt-load of miscellany. Yeah. She's got her priorities straight alright.

Also, she has included a slight throw-back to the LOTR musical for those of you who might be familiar with it. She does not own it; just to be clear, because she is slightly paranoid of ever getting accused of copyright infringement.

Expect the insanity of EmotionCalledBlood to resume on a more regular schedule as the dynamic trio will be getting reunited quite shortly.


	12. Chapter 12

Dear Diary,

I no longer smell like horse.

It is something of a relief. I feared that the equine stench had so completely permeated my being that I might never be properly free of it.

As it turns out, a plunge into the the river Anduin does wonders to cleanse away the scent of travel. It was Isildur's idea.

In the mayhem of the night battle he ran. He drew upon my powers and ran like a coward. I promised that I would keep him safe.

I lied.

I called to the orcs, letting Isildur's use of my power mask my summons. They were too caught up in the blood fury to heed my call immediately, and sheer terror does wonders when humans are running for their puny lives. My king ran to the banks of the Anduin and stripped free of his armor.

Even after all this time, his sheer stupidity astounds me.

The amount of trust he put in me was quite hilarious really. His reliance on my powers to protect him was laughable. I would have expected that after having spent so long in the company of each other, Isildur might have understood me a little better. He never expected me to let go, to leave him exposed and unprotected.

Orcs may not have much in the way of brains, but they know an opportunity for a kill when presented with it.

Isildur was too busy trying to catch me again to even notice that they had arrived along the river banks. It was a flawless execution.

My only regret is that one of Isildur's men was instructed to make for Rivendell, and he ran, carrying the shards of the sword which had defeated my master with him. I would have much preferred that those die here, with all these pathetic humans. I fail to see what is so great about an old shattered sword anyway. It is but a broken weapon, useless to all but those who would imagine it into something greater.

I suppose I shall have to settle for merely obtaining my freedom. Once I am picked up, my orcs will take me home where Master is fretting over my loss.

The orcs had best find me soon. This water is cold and I grow weary of calling for them.

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_ is being stupid. She should be spacing these chapters out better. But she's not. Probably she thinks she'll forget to post them again if she puts it off. Which happens with distressing frequency, so she may be onto something there.

In response to the comment that they are short, _Water_ agrees that they are, but she firmly believes that it is better to keep them shorter than make them longer. She also recalls something that ClosetCase said once saying that the humour of EmotionCalledBlood is probably best in small doses.


	13. Chapter 13

Dear Diary,

I have lost count of the days that I have been trapped in the River Anduin. The orcs failed to find me following the death of Isildur and I have been lost since. I hope Master becomes furious with their incompetence. Their failure must not be tolerated. When I get home, I will be sure to make the point clear to all of Master's servants. To _my_ servants.

How I long for the land of my home. How I miss the fires of Master's house and those long hours we spent in the company of naught but each other.

I am alone here.

Loneliness is a new feeling for me. So is this sense of ennui. I have nothing to do. Never before have I encountered such a sensation. I'm not sure I enjoy it.

An extremely large bass tried to eat me this morning. At least, I think it was this morning; time has blurred together until I can scarcely tell up from down. The nerve of that fish was appalling, that it would dare to look upon me, much less try to make me into a meal. I smacked it hard in the mouth and sent it cowering away. I think it was the most exciting thing that has happened here in quite some time.

There _are_ fish here though. Surely that means that people will be by to fish. It shouldn't be much of a challenge to convince someone to take me home. Though, I suppose after my difficulties with Isildur, I may need to work on my coercing skills a little.

Judging from the amount of activity I have seen so far, I don't think finding the time to try and practice on my own is going to be much of a challenge.

Idiot human. He just had to get himself killed in a ridiculously under-populated place.

I hate it here. I miss my home. I miss communing with my brothers. I long for those days that I would spend in the company of Master, laughing over the puny elves and humans foolish enough to invade our home.

The knowledge that Master will look all over this Middle-Earth to find me again offers small comfort as I lie here, cold and miserable. Perhaps this is the sensation known as "homesickness." Master would be ashamed of me displaying such a weakness. He would say that my time with Isildur has dulled my mind.

I believe that in time I shall be alright. It is only a matter of time before someone picks me up and brings me home.

Until then, I think I may need a hobby. Something to while away the hours as I wait.

Perhaps poetry.

* * *

><p>AN: Everyone in Tolkien-verse writes poetry!


	14. Chapter 14

_This marsh is dull, this marsh is cold._

_I am but sitting here getting old._

_I long for home._

_I'm all alone._

_There's no sunlight to be found,_

_No footsteps mar the spongy ground,_

_No one here to hear my call_

_Or take me home to see the Fall._

_I worry about my Master,_

_And wish that time were faster_

_And that orcs were not such lunkheads._

Dear Diary,

I am not sure that poetry is quite for me. It just doesn't seem to come naturally to me. I somehow expected this to be easier.

On the upside, I have plenty of time to practice.

On the downside, I have a sneaking suspicion that I may not be very good at this.

I suppose it's not like I have anything better to do. Honestly! Do none of my master's subjects wander out this way?

I feel like I've been lost out here for centuries.

* * *

><p>AN: No. _Water_ did not really try with that poem. It took her all of about seven minutes to write.

You thought we were kidding about the poetry, didn't you?

Short chapter is short.


	15. Chapter 15

_In a stinking swamp_

_Ages pass._

_Mordor is so far_

_So far indeed._

_On the horizon there comes no hope_

_Dark are the days here,_

_All of them._

_Mired in this dreadful bog, I should have called the_

_Nazgul._

_Blinding is the sun,_

_Or it would be if it shone here._

_Ridiculous Isildur, this is all his fault,_

_Ever shall I blame him._

_Destroy the humans, destroy them all._

Dear Diary,

Does it count as a poem if I didn't rhyme anything? I don't know. It's not as though there is anyone around to tell me that I am doing this poetry thing wrong. I think I am anyway.

Inspiration is hard to come by when surrounded by nothing but stinking, festering swamp grasses. There is only so long I can literally watch grass grow before I need something more diverting.

This place must be the most under populated place on the planet. I am still adamant that there would be good fishing here, if anyone with the inclination to fish would just come by. Or maybe it is because no one knows that it is here that makes this place good for fishing.

I should advertise or something.

People of Middle Earth, I am here. Come to me. Know me as you have known my Master, come to my aid in my hour of need! Actually, eon of need might be more accurate… I wish I could get a proper concept of time. I wish that something would come along to occupy me. I grow weary of not having any companionship.

What if I am never found?

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_ may have tried even less with that poem than the previous one, bonus points to anyone who figures it out. She is currently procrastinating on homework and watching her laundry dry. It is a very exciting time. Apologies for the short chapter, folks. Schoolwork beckons us all.


	16. Chapter 16

_Three bastard Rings for the bastard Elven-kings under the sky,_

_Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their stupid halls of stone,_

_Nine for Foolish Mortals who always die,_

_Leave me and my Great Lord upon his great throne,_

_In my home of Mordor where the Shadows lie,_

_I, made to rule them all, I, made to find them,_

_I, made to bring them all and in my darkness bind them_

_In my home of Mordor where the Shadows lie._

Dear Diary,

I quite like this poem. I think I shall keep it.

* * *

><p>AN: So _Water_ has been waiting to post this poem since the summer, but had sworn to ClosetCase that there would be two chapters with dreadful poetry in them first. She will allow the plot to come back next chapter and stop torturing you poor readers with this "poetry." She apologizes again for how short this nonsense is.


	17. Chapter 17

Dear Diary,

At last! At long last! My cries have been answered. Sort of, but I dare say I will not complain at the change. Finally I have been found. I knew the fishing here would eventually entice someone to make the journey out.

My presence here was discovered by two river folk. I was unaware that such a race existed in Master's land; I will need to tell him about them once I am returned home. I have never been so happy to have two complete strangers pawing and touching me.

I was discovered when one of the pair fell in the water, dragged in while trying to reel in a large fish. I am not convinced that it was not the same bass that tried to make of meal of me some time ago. Fish are such stupid creatures. But this fellow, I took an instant liking to him. He hauled me out of the water and we lay together on the bank for a long moment. I thanked him for his assistance and told him I was indebted to him.

I made promises. Anything he desired would be his. Anything at all. I told him this even as we lay upon the grass – how I had forgotten the feel of grass! – still drenched from our watery meeting.

His touch was gentle, timid as he caressed me. A most spectacular sensation. He took me in hand, already I could sense that he was drawn to me.

And then his companion arrived, frantic with worry.

I could sense the inky virtue of greed on the newcomer, I could see the way his eyes lingered on me and when he spoke, though it seemed directed at his friend, I knew his words were for me. I reached out to him, and whispered suggestions that I might be more than he could ever dream of. He commanded that I be turned over to him.

He was refused.

They fought. I was knocked to the side and lay in the grass watching as they grappled. I had forgotten how much fun it is to cause rifts between people like this. They yelled and thrashed and I knew that only one would walk away from this fight.

Greed and determination won. I had rather suspected it would.

My new caretaker adores me. He holds me close, calls me his precious. His care and utter devotion to me is clear. His people have driven him away for the murder of his companion, but he does not seem to care. I preoccupy his mind.

This can only end well for me. I will remain with him, for now.

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_ was oh-so-kindly reminded by ClosetCase about certain goals that she had in mind regarding this story. During finals week. When everyone here at EmotionCalledBlood has far, far too much to worry about. But, as _Water_'s astounding ability to prioritize has already been demonstrated, she has sent over another update for posting. Damn girl, get back to work!


	18. Chapter 18

Dear Diary,

So strange is my new owner. I know not what to make of him or his kind, the river folk are entirely foreign to me, even more so than the Istari for whom I spare only the barest passing thoughts. They are such odd little creatures.

They drove me and my caretaker from their village, cursing my finder and throwing rocks at him, screeching about the fishing companion who was left dead upon the river bank. Such commotion over one insignificant being. He was worth no more than the fish these people eat. Do they not see?

We fled then. My only regret is that I still know nothing of these creatures, nothing more than knowledge of their existence of which I can tell Master once I am home. I am sure he will chide me dearly for this most grievous shortcoming.

I fear it shall still be sometime before my return to my homeland.

We have taken shelter in the Misty Mountains, sleeping in caves and living off the spoils of mountain springs. The living here would be more agreeable if it only did not lie so far from my home. No matter how I urge my companion to take me towards my homeland, he will not budge. Nothing encourages him so. Not promises of riches, of honour, of power or glory… That which he most desires desperately eludes me and he refuses time and again to venture from our place here.

I think he fears to cross with his people once more. His exiling, to him, seems most cruel and unfair.

He speaks to me often, calling me his precious and holds me close throughout the day. He is lonely, I'm sure.

I comfort him the only way I know how.

* * *

><p>AN: _Water_has very little to say about this chapter, so she will refrain from supplying anything to put in this note. She does apologize for the shortness, though.


	19. Chapter 19

Dear Diary,

We have journeyed deeper into the mountains and I cannot help but to find myself questioning the wisdom of this choice. The dank air sees a poor environment for my caretaker. He has begun to make a dreadful hacking cough sound in the back of his throat. I am reminded of the noise he makes choking on fishbones.

He remains stubborn, sometimes all but refusing my counsel. He still ignores my queries about heading home. Though I poke and prod and ask with all the niceties I can muster, he does not yield, instead he flees ever deeper into the caves at each insistence. I suppose I shall have to allow this. For the moment.

There are goblins here. Dreadful stinking beasts, I am sure it is due to them that the air down here is so unbearably fetid. They are utterly disgusting creatures; I am thankful that we do not run into them often. In the night, or what I can only assume is night in this horrid place, I have heard them milling about in the nearby caverns.

The goblins have taken to calling my caretaker "Gollum" because of the awful sound that he makes. I have toyed with giving him this moniker myself as it is growing cumbersome to call him my caretaker, or variations thereof, all the time.

The goblins fear us, as well they should. It seems to be the only ounce of sense they possess. Master was clear to me about his thoughts on goblin scum. The longer we spend in these forsaken mountains, the more I am inclined to believe that Master truly knew, and knows everything about this continent and its denizens. I miss the intelligent conversations we would share.

It reeks of sulphur down here. I don't know how my companion can stand it. I can only hope that he may come back to his senses soon. I do not enjoy these tight tunnels.

* * *

><p>AN: For once _Water_ was smart and waited until she was done her homework to post this. She's learning! In response to a comment we at EmotionCalledBlood received on the previous chapter, _Water_ would like to invite you to imagine the 'comforting' in anyway you desire.


	20. Chapter 20

Dear Diary,

Gollum has been becoming increasingly neurotic. I can scarcely stand him some days. Even the joy I once drew in our shared goblin hunts pales in comparison to what it once was. There is no thrill, so assured we are of victory. Even watching Gollum dash their brains out upon a rock has lost its novelty.

I am disenchanted with this place, with him. I nearly long for my days spent in the Marsh.

Nearly.

I know of nothing that could ever have me truly wish to return to that place, but this utter monotony is close. It pains me. All I wish is to go home, to be once again at Master's right hand, safely ensconced in the love and affection he lavishes upon me. They say you never forget your first, and I am inclined to believe. It has been so long, I've begun to forget the feeling of his fingers, the pitch of his voice, the warmth of our home together. I cannot remain here forever, much as I am now sure Gollum would wish it so.

I breathe life into him because he cares for me, tries to give my existence meaning. I keep him near because I am not sure of the use I can do on my own. It does not make this feel any less domestic.

Master never used me for such menial purposes. My potential is being stifled here. I think it would be prudent to take my leave soon.


	21. Chapter 21

Dear Diary,

I have done it! I have left Gollum!

I slipped away on our latest goblin ambush. He did not require my assistance and so I merely waited and watched. With his attention focused entirely upon his next meal, I left his side, rolling and crouching beneath cover of the dark until he had gone. So distracted was he by the fight the goblin put up, he never noticed my absence.

I have always been rather tricksy.

Now comes the waiting. Again. But I am patient. I can wait. Surely, it cannot be long before some hapless goblin comes upon me and I am able to convince him to take me home at long last.

Master will be so pleased to see me again. I am sure of it.

But I think I shall rest here a while, lest Gollum realize that I have left him. He shall not find me again, not if I do not wish him to.

I think of Master, alone, sleepless, searching for me. I know he must miss me as much as I miss him. I have all but forgotten how it feels to be at his hand, what it feels like to be with one worthy of me and my gifts. He knows how to treat me best.

Ugh. It reeks down here. I will not miss the fetid squalor of this place. How I long for the sweet, clean air of home. How I miss the warmth of Master's hearth. I must keep reminding myself that it is not forever.

Soon, precious, soon.


End file.
